


Interrogation

by StarDustEzri



Category: His Dark Materials (TV)
Genre: BDSM dynamics, Bondage, Dubious Consent, Episode: s02e03 Theft, F/M, Fix-It, Handcuffs, Interrogation, No daemons, Slut Shaming, Submissive Lee Scoresby, pants stay on, she strikes him with a cane though only a few times, starts like the show but goes in a different direction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 03:53:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28824780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarDustEzri/pseuds/StarDustEzri
Summary: Mrs. Coulter clicked her tongue. “You are not endearing yourself to me, Mr. Scoresby.”“Well then we’ll have to find another way for me to endear myself to you” he uttered in a low voice.
Relationships: Marisa Coulter & Lee Scoresby, Marisa Coulter/Lee Scoresby
Kudos: 10





	Interrogation

**Author's Note:**

> I've tagged this as dubious consent. Both parties do say yes in the moment, however Lee is a prisoner so consent cannot be freely given.

Lee Scoresby sat in dim light, clenching his hand into a fist, stretching his fingers out as far as they could, and then pulling them back into a fist again. His thoughts turned over like a bad engine as he tried to think of what he might say when the guards returned. But Lee’s mind kept slipping, miserably dwelling on how he ended up in a Magisterium prison. Clearly one of the townsfolk had sold him out. As the butts of their guns drove into his flesh, the magisterium soldiers said they were arresting him for killing the far-too-pious astronomer. But the hill was tall: a fact which Lee had time to meditate on when they forced him to stumble down it in handcuffs. When the soldiers had started up the hill, Lee had not yet shot the astronomer. The Magisterium had come there to arrest him for seeking out a heretic. He wondered which of the townspeople had sold him down the river: the barkeep with red hair? The dull seal hunter? Had the magisterium guards a few booths over been paying that much attention to him? He couldn’t seem to think straight. He was exhausted and guilty over the day’s events. The senselessness of his gunshot volley with the astronomer, and the casual brutality in the way the soldiers treated him. He was mad with himself, more than anything, for not being more careful.

Lee sat on a stool with his back against a rectangular pillar. He did not choose this sitting position; his hands were in handcuffs with a long enough chain that they ran around the pillar. The handcuffs were not directly attached to the pillar, though, so he could extend one hand but only if the other were pulled backwards in an equal amount. The best resting position he could achieve kept his hands at his sides but just behind his waste. They had taken his coat and his jacket, so he wore just the blue button-down shirt.

The door clanked, rolling open. Lee looked up and was surprised to see a woman walk through, dressed in a red coat and matching lipstick. She carried a thin black cane, though she did not need it to walk. The magisterium did not typically allow women in these types of settings, but she strode in if she were in charge of it all. Then Lee realized: this is Mrs. Coulter. Lyra’s biological mother. The creator of the Bolvangar. Lee swallowed, suddenly feeling intimidated. Any ideas he’d had to talk his way out seemed even less likely to work on her than a Magisterium soldier. The door shut again, leaving just the two of them in the room.

Mrs. Coulters’ eyes poured over him like a searchlight, scanning him from top to bottom and up again. She was clearly working towards making an assessment. He tried not to squirm under her gaze; tried to make himself palatable. She held several papers, which she flipped through performatively, creating extra sound in ruffling the pages. “Lee Scoresby, aëronaut for hire. Arrested for murder, heresy, and suspicion of conspiring against the Magisterium.” She raised her eyebrows, her eyes still bearing down at him. “These are serious charges”.

He smiled falsely. “I’ve done nothing wrong. It’s my opinion that the Magisterium is one of the finest organizations around, and I will gladly make any sort of pledge to prove it. Whatever you want; name it.”

She placed the papers on a small end table. “What does the name Lyra Belacqua mean to you?”

Lee’s eyes darted around the room. “I don’t know. What does it mean to you?” Tense silence. “Oh is she a relation to Asriel Belacqua? Because I’ve always been a fan of his. Always thought one day I’d meet that man, shake his hand, and ask him how he did it all.” Lee lied, hoping that the discussion of her ex would get under her skin. But they were both too smart for that game.

“You know exactly who I am, don’t you?” She seemed unfazed. “And I know who you are”. It was a subtle threat.

“Well, I’m pleased to make your acquaintance” Lee worked to keep up the false charm.

Mrs. Coulter stood over him, observing. “Where is Lyra?” He voice was full of danger.

Lee looked at her boots and sighed, abandoning false pretenses. “I don’t know” he answered honestly. He felt truly guilty on this count. Last time he saw Lyra she had fallen out of his balloon. By some miracle she had lived, and went on to help Iorek Byrnison regain his thrown. But still Scoresby felt bad that she had come to danger while under his care.

“Well that’s interesting, because last time I saw her she was flying off from my station in your balloon”. The woman picked up the cane and hit him across the chest horizontally. Lee let out a shout from both surprise and pain as he pressed back against the pillar, reeling. His shoulders knit together; he wanted to bring up his hands over his chest but the restraints prevented him.

Mrs. Coulter paced in front of him. “If you tell me where Lyra is then you can walk out of this building as a free man. Today, within the hour. Your unfortunate incident with the astronomer can be erased from magisterium records. You know who I am, so you understand that I can make such arrangements.”

When Lee didn’t respond for apparently-too-many seconds, she brought the cane across his thighs. It stung and he could feel the line where the cane had stuck him, burning. Lee stared at the cane in her gloved hands. She had such a strange anger in all of her movements. “Yes, I know who you are. And I know what what you’ve done. What you did to those children.” His voice portrayed more emotion than he wanted it to. “Tell me, how do you sleep at night?” Lee knew that this was a reckless course of action, but somehow didn’t care.

“My work serves the Authority.” She stated plainly and confidently, like it was obvious, like she didn’t owe anything to anyone. The idea that she was superior to him seemed implicit in all of her words and actions. Her cane struck him again. “But we’re not here to talk about me. This is a discussion about your future, and the manner in which you leave this building. I’ve explained how you may leave if you tell me where Lyra is.” She paused. "If you do not cooperate there are other options. You could rot in the basement of this building, kept in darkness until your hair becomes a mane and your eyes are no longer sharp. Or we could remove your clothes and chain you up in the courtyard in the cold, to see how many hours until you freeze.” She shrugged. “None of this possibilities bear significance to me. I will find Lyra with or without your help. You do not matter in the slightest, not to me nor to anyone here.” Mrs. Coulter smiled and clapped her hands together as if Lee were a stupid child. “So just tell me where she is.”

Lee shook his head. “I have loyalties which mean more than what happens to me.” He pressed his lips together for a moment, then remarked “and in any case, I can’t tell you where to find that girl because I don’t know where she is, or even by what means she is traveling.”

Mrs. Coulter clicked her tongue and shook her head. “You are not endearing yourself to me, Mr. Scoresby” she warned, stepping closer to him and striking his chest with the cane again, with greater force this time. Lee gritted his teeth.

Lee had a knack for reading people. His years playing cards and seeking work as an aëronaut had taught him to notice what people left unsaid. And so when Lee noticed Mrs. Coulter’s expression bordering on enjoyment and her breathing slightly elevate after she hit him, a wild idea took form in his mind. “Well then we’ll have to find another way for me to endear myself to you” he uttered in a low voice.

Up until to this point Lee had been avoiding eye contact. But now he looked directly into her eyes, held for his gaze there for what felt like long moment, looked down at her lips, held, and then looked back into her eyes.

Mrs. Coulter grabbed his jaw with one hand, holding his head in place and digging her fingers into his stubble. With her thumb, she pressed onto his lips, traced their outline, and then pushed her finger into his mouth. Lee sucked on it eagerly. Mrs. Coulter withdrew her finger and smiled wickedly. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into” she retorted offhandedly.

“Then show me” Lee challenged, his eyes blazing.

She turned and kicked the stool out from under him, sending it flying across the room. He nearly fell, but managed to brace himself against the pillar. He stood up, hands still bound at his sides. As he waited, a shiver of anticipation moved through his body. He knew this was sort of messed up, yet still he was thrilled, terrified, enchanted, and intimidated all at once; he was taken with her power, her strange aura.

Mrs. Coulter unbuttoned his shirt and opened it, exposing the bare skin. She ran her right hand through his hair, gripping it, and forcing him to look upwards. Her left hand fingers danced around his neck and collar bone. She investigated his chest hair, his pecks, grazing around the edges of his nipples. Lee’s breathing accelerated. He was filled with need, the desire for her skin against his; he wanted her to kiss him. He tried to turn his face towards her, but she kept her grip on his hair, holding his head in place so that he looked towards the ceiling, barely seeing it. He could feel her hot breath against his face. His skin seemed to perk up in response to her touch. It wasn’t his only organ that was perking up.

She rubbed her hand around his stomach, then his hip. Suddenly her hand was behind him, gripping his ass over his pants. Lee sucked in breath through his teeth, surprised and elated. Her hand rubbed his butt, with interludes of pinching and pulling and pressure. His hands braced against the restraints. He wanted to touch her, to press his lips into her neck; the fact that he couldn’t was exhilarating and seemed to heighten the sensation of her touch. Mrs. Coulter hooked two of her fingers under the waistband of his pants, slowly moved them from his left to right hip, and then pulled out and let the pants snap back. She cupped her hand between his legs, feeling the warmth and firmness of his arousal. She pressed onto it. Lee whimpered, breaking their heated silence.

That sound turned something in Mrs. Coulter. She abruptly took her hands off of him in disgust, took a step back, and roared “tell me where my daughter is, you slut!”

Lee tensed. His arousal and his tact left him all at once, like water out of a tipped pot. “If you cared for her, you would let her go! You’re a monster who hurts kids - she isn’t safe with you! You are creating a world that isn’t safe for children at all!”

Mrs. Coulter scowled at him, still full of anger, then abruptly turned heel and left the room.

The door slammed shut, and he was alone again. With blue balls, an exposed chest, and reduced amount of hope, Lee Scoresby wept.


End file.
